Prima inter pares
by Lyanna Kane
Summary: A not so congenial take on the obligatory vampire Integral scenario. Unadvisable for those with still an ounce of sanity left.


**Author's note:** if ever has a ficlet been particularly hazy and confusing, then this was the time, and quite possibly this the ficlet. The (un)esteemed authoress takes full blame upon herself, although with a small smile. However poor you lot might decide the execution was, this was a twist I'd have liked to see depicted beautifully, and to this exact cliché.

"Hating you…"

Blue-blue eyes, eyes so different, and yet unchanged. Innocent eyes reflected evenly in the eyes of the defeated.

"Hating you…is all…all there is to it." You say it softly, say it as if you barely mean it. Though you do. Mean it, that is. You rarely waver on speaking your mind, although it would hardly make for a tragic occurrence that a Hellsing should keep his silence every now and then.

"How you gave in." You're touching my face, and I know the style of the greet this cheek your're clawing at can offer your delicate fingers. It's cold, Sir Hellsing, isn't it? A cold, cold surface. Cold as…haha, cold as death.

"I hated you then, I hated your weakness. Have I told you?" On countless occasions. Never with words, oh no, too much the master for that, this I shall grant you. Too well bred to admit to any animosity, too educated to concede a point. But you hate me. In a way, I suppose I hate you just as well. You hate to have to look at my shortened shiny locks and think of your own blond hair. I hate it too how we're so damnably alike, and yet so singularly dissimilar. You're Sir Hellsing…and I am…what I am.

"I hate you because you wanted this," you clarify with conviction. Did I? Are you _sure_, Sir Hellsing? "When he came for you, you let him do this to you. You wanted this. Too much of a coward be disgraced by your enemy, you rather let _him_ have _his_ way with you." Does it help you? Saying that? Come to a meagre philosophical or emotional assistance to whatever other conclusions you've already skilfully drawn? Cards, Sir Hellsing. Cards prepared to tumble over under the weight of truth.

"I hate you for being one of them." And are those tears, Sir Hellsing? Just a flicker of? Perhaps the light? "I hate you for choosing to become one of them. I hate you for…"

You're sobbing, Sir Knight. That doesn't do in a Hellsing. Wipe the tears off. No. Don't slouch. Don't press to me, I can't help you. Help yourself. No. I can't help you. You hate me. You would rather I say I took a choice that you were denied, wouldn't you. Sir Hellsing? Wouldn't you?

He took me. Does it matter how? Stop sobbing, I told you to stop it, stop it, stop it, STOP IT.

Footsteps.

Now see what you've gotten us into?

"Oh my God, Sir Integral, why are – are you feeling well? Sir – Sir, do stand, Sir? Can you hear me? What- Oh, Sir, what have you done to your hair, Sir?"

Oh look, Sir Hellsing, it's Seras. Pretty Seras Victoria, and won't she be wanting to know what you're doing in her uniform and chopping your hair off? Of course she will, but then, you'll never quite be able to provide her with sufficient explanations. You can never tell her it's less demanding for you to carry on these private confessions of sinful loathing towards me when you're playing at pretence. You're not Sir Hellsing in those clothes, you'll be telling yourself soon enough, you're Seras, and so you were weak, whereas Sir Hellsing could never be such. But you're not Seras.

I'll always be me. And you'll return to me.

"Sir…Integral?" Seras again, Lord Hellsing. Better attend.

But I'll be waiting for you. I want to hear the truth. It's not me you hate.

You walk away from the mirror.

And I, your reflection, may only fade to black.

**Author's note part deux**: why yes, I actually _do_ think Integral would grow a mite unbalanced should ever she have to subject herself to accepting vampirism on very pressing circumstances. And I _do_ think she might, shall we say, break. Whether this badly? Heh. Well, well, same encouragement as always: full liberty to flame away to those who wish to do so!


End file.
